As I sat in an autorickshaw in traffic today, first on the Mathura road and then later trying to get across town for some food, I had a moment of Bill Murray-ness, swept along in the slow-moving tide of cars and rickshaws, between canyons of packed buses (run on Clean Natural Gas (CNG)! Green Delhi, Clean Delhi) and massive cargo lorries. What a completely bizarre place we live in, this world of ours. How do people live here? Ah modern alienation. The ennui of hazy distanciation from the real, unbroken even when the real reaches into the rickshaw with a stack of Booker Prize winning paperbacks and says: madam? madam? book? Aravind Adiga's White Tiger? madam?
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